The first person I
stumble over literally stumble over in her poky, dark little
drawing-room is, of course, the Hawley Boy. She kept us waiting
ten minutes, and then emerged as though she had been tipped out
of the dirtyclothes-basket. You know my way, dear, when I am at
all put out. I was Superior, crrrrushingly Superior! 'Lifted my eyes
to Heaven, and had heard of nothing 'dropped my eyes on the
carpet and ''really didn't know" 'played with my cardcase and
''supposed so." The Hawley Boy giggled like a girl, and I had to
freeze him with scowls between the sentences.'
'And she?'
'She sat in a heap on the edge of a couch, and managed to convey
the impression that she was suffering from stomach-ache, at the
very least. It was all I could do not to ask after her symptoms.
When I rose, she grunted just like a buffalo in the water too lazy to
move.'
'Are you certain? '
'Am I blind, Polly? Laziness, sheer laziness, nothing else or her
garments were only constructed for sitting down in. I stayed for a
quarter of an hour trying to penetrate the gloom, to guess what her
surroundings were like, while she stuck out her tongue.'
'Lu cy!'
'Well I'll withdraw the tongue, though I'm sure if she didn't do it
when I was in the room, she did the minute I was outside. At any
rate, she lay in a lump and grunted. Ask the Hawley Boy, dear.
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